David's Final Graduate Year Ch. 01

"That's a more likely proposition," he said. "My mother showed such few good parenting qualities that I'm sure that I could do better." Jon's mother lived in the south of France, and we went to see her each Easter. The best way to describe her is eccentric. The first time I met her, she tried to get me into bed with her. "I think that really I would do better as a nanny than a fitness centre administrator!" he said.

Chapter 45 David

Plans for commitment

Early in November, I went to see Ed Bairstow. I said to him "I understand from Jonathan that he is now a theist. Do you think that belief in God is sufficient for him to make a promise before God? I am thinking about a private blessing service in which he and I promise before witnesses to live together permanently and faithfully until death us do part, and to exchange rings and seek God's blessing. I haven't spoken to him about this, until I have heard your opinion."

"I've been wondering ever since I met you two when you were going to ask me!" Ed replied. "The answer is yes. He may not be a Christian yet, but he is very deeply under your influence, and I think that he will eventually recognize God in Jesus Christ. But I couldn't use the college Chapel for such a ceremony."

"No, I know that. If we provide a venue in a private house outside Camford, could you come and lead it? I totally understand that it would have no legal significance, but I'm not at present worried about that. I just want the seal of God's blessing on our union."

We fixed that if Jon was happy with the arrangement, we would have the blessing ceremony on New Year's Eve at noon, as Ed (who was going away for Christmas) would be back in Camford for a party that evening. Only our families and Tim Ingledown would be present.

I raised the matter with Jon the same evening. His reply was that he loved me so much that he would give me anything I wished that was within his power, and now that he believed in a loving God, he could in honesty make such promises before Him. "In that case," I said, "we need to make prompt arrangements to furnish the last two bedrooms and the chapel. In any case, we need more dining room chairs."

Furnishing the two bedrooms was relatively easy and we ordered the necessary items at once. Furnishing the chapel was more difficult, but we decided that the best arrangement was to hire twenty stacking chairs to be divided between chapel and dining room as a temporary measure until we could secure suitable permanent items. We then began to look at secondhand furniture and secured a small seventeenth century table and an ancient kneeling desk with which to furnish the chapel. From the carpentry firm that had installed our antique oak staircase, Jon ordered a wooden dais, about 10 cm high, to be fitted at one end of the room, on which we could place the table and kneeling desk. The room had one single small narrow window, about 1.5 metres above the dais in the north-east-facing outer wall, which made it comfortable without being claustrophobic.

My family was going to be with us in any case, as they had arranged to stay for Christmas and the New Year, so it was only necessary to tell them what was going to happen on New Year's Eve. Jon wrote to his mother inviting her to come, but she refused: she again said that the weather in January in England would kill her.

Chapter 46 An invitation

Dear Tim

This letter is to invite you to spend the New Year holiday with us at Rockwell's Barn. At noon on New Year's Eve, there will be an act of worship in the prayer room on the top floor in which Jon and David will make vows before God of lifelong fidelity, seek His blessing and exchange rings. The ceremony is private and the only persons present will be our families and you, if you are able to accept this invitation. The act of blessing will be performed by the Rev Edward Bairstow, Chaplain of St Boniface's College, Camford.

There will be a celebratory buffet luncheon afterwards and we invite you to see the New Year in with us, and stay overnight as long as you don't mind sleeping on a sofa. We both hope that you will be able to come, as the only non-family witness.

You have been Jon's friend and trusted advisor for many years and we are both anxious that you should share this highly significant moment in our lives with us. We hope that sometime in the future our union will be recognized by law, but until then we are content to live in God's love.

Your affectionate friends,

Jon and David.

Chapter 47 Jon

Jewellery and an accompanist

I felt particularly happy that David wanted an act of commitment for our union in the light of the incident with Simon Mitchell. David was obviously disillusioned after the incident in the Whale, and to my relief, Simon seemed to have finished his pursuit of him. I hoped that Simon was a male version of Laura, just seeking new men for one-night stands. It's well known that when teenagers get away from home to university and their life is their own, they often break loose into obsessions like sex, drink or drugs or non-academic activities like drama, politics or student journalism! Look at David and his singing! Maybe that's a predictable comment from a man nearing thirty.

A couple of days later, I said to David, "Try and finish early in the lab today and meet me about 4-30 at Laurifax." When we met, I led him down Fleamarket Street, explaining as we walked, "We're going to a jeweller's to order our rings. I think that we should have bespoke rings, and they can take up to six weeks to make. I don't know what you think, but because they are not wedding rings, there is no obligation to go for a plain metal band. I think we should look at patterns of rings set with small coloured stones."

We entered the shop and started looking at catalogues.

"This one is nice," said David, pointing to a ring set with four stones equidistant from one another.

"Yes," I said "why don't we get one with four sapphires for you and one with four rubies for me, so that they more or less match our eye colours?"

"Brilliant!" said David, "in gold or in platinum?"

"In platinum," I replied, and we ordered them. The shop assistant measured our ring fingers. We had decided to wear the rings on our right fourth digit because they were not wedding rings. We were told that the rings would take about a month and we were asked for £200 deposit, which I paid.

When we left the shop, David said, "I will pay for your ring, and you can pay for mine. We are a partnership of equals. You will not be endowing me with all your worldly goods! I've got a bit of cash left from the money my parents gave me when I became 21."

In spite of numerous other activities, David still worked conscientiously at his lab work, which was developing in a promising direction, and it was clear that from Charlie Crabtree's comments that Charlie could see important applications of the work that might lead to industrial funding for a research team. My own work was also going fairly well, and because my computer expertise would not be easily found in someone else, my boss Dr Ed S reckoned that I would get a further three years post-doc funding.

Of course I could live, had I so chosen, without working at all, as my late father's family trust paid me a regular income from its property investments. But I feel that it is vital for human beings to work for a living, and whenever my unearned income weighed on my conscience, I could and did, give some of it away. David was a partial beneficiary, as I funded his singing lessons, his astronomically expensive comprehensive motor insurance (very much against his will), and his trips abroad, even though he insisted on paying me for his daily board and lodging. I had promised his father that I would foster David's talent for singing, but also promised that he would never become my kept boy.

David never let me buy him clothes or books. Most men in my position would have lavished gifts and designer clothes on their boyfriends, but David refused all such gifts except for birthday and Christmas gifts, and clothed himself at high street multiple stores rather than Savile Row. To me, he looked just as beautiful whatever he wore, and as I really preferred him without any clothes, it never seemed worthwhile to argue about his dress. I had got him to wear my favourite perfume, but even then he would only do so at weekends. He said that he did not want to go to work in the lab smelling like a tart! In spite of his feminine-looking long hair and sweetness of disposition, he is in fact much more macho than me in his disregard for clothes and his crudeness of expression. There is nothing about him that is girly. The only jewellery items that he will wear are items that have significance and do not just look pretty. So he wears the crucifix I gave him to signify his faith and will wear the ring when it is ready, to signify his union with me. The bracelet that I bought him for his twentieth birthday he only wears on Sundays, because it would be a hazard in the lab. And what could be more typically English male than that in spite of his inherent musicality, he hates dancing! The crucifix was the first present that I ever gave him. That was in my atheistic days, and I just bought it because I thought that he would look nice in it, but he wears it to show his allegiance to Christ, whom I had not yet learned to love.

The advantage of having Wesley Johnson the impresario fixing up gigs for David a long time in advance was that for recitals he could devise his own programme rather than stepping in as a last minute substitute for an already advertised programme. The first of such fixtures was in mid-November at a music society in Fitchey, the nearest cathedral city to Camford. Being so near, he could drive there in the 4x4 and return home the same night. He insisted in going alone, he said that he did not need me to hold his hand.

The programme that David had devised was eclectic, encompassing the baroque (Purcell and Händel), Mozart of course, Verdi, Puccini and Vaughan Williams. He had to supply his own music for the accompanist, and of course therefore needed a run-through in the hall before the concert. The accompanist and hall were available in the afternoon, so they were able to rehearse before going to dinner with the president and secretary. He did not do the chosen items in chronological order, so for instance 'Recondità armonia' was followed by 'Where'er you walk' and 'Il mio tesoro' by 'Dear pretty, pretty youth'. The evening seems to have been a great success, the applause from the audience was enthusiastic, the elderly accompanist said it was the best recital he had ever played for and that if David ever needed an accompanist, to give him a call. This was very valuable for David, because there was no-one in Camford whom he could call upon regularly. So at the time, they fixed up that Brian Shaw, the accompanist would go with David to his recital fixture in June in a small town in Gloucestershire.

Brian Shaw also said that as he was retired, he could if necessary be available to accompany David in singing competitions. When David told Marcello, he was very pleased that David had found an accompanist and said that he had heard that Brian was an excellent pianist. Marcello said that David should enter for two competitions the following summer, in Wales and in the Netherlands, and the entries were duly made. David's other two booked engagements were bigger ones, 'Messiah' again at Christmas (as well being tenor soloist for the Bach Choir's Christmas concert) at a church in London, and Bach's St John Passion at Easter in Exminster. I agreed to go with him to Exminster, and we arranged to stay for a couple of nights before going on to Bristol to fly to Nice for Easter with David's mother.

Chapter 48 Jon

Saturday night sex 2

The day after the Bach Choir Christmas concert in the last week of the Martinmas Term, we went for our usual Saturday afternoon swim. The pool was quiet. Most undergraduates were getting ready to go home for the Christmas vacation, and the local football team was playing at home. As usual, the sight of David undressed filled me not just with male desire, but a huge feeling of tenderness for the boy I loved. I could not help embracing him under the showers and kissing him hungrily during a few minutes when we were alone in the changing room. We rode home quickly, just as it was getting dark and having parked our bikes securely in the lobby of the flat, went upstairs and sat on the sofa, after I had made us cups of tea. I put my arm round my boy as we sipped our tea and kissed his neck and began to bite him gently in the neck.

"My darling boy," I said, as I rubbed my face in his beautiful blond hair, sniffing the scent of the 'Storing pour homme' shampoo that we had just used, "Now I begin to understand the beauty and insight in Shadwell's words in that Purcell song 'Dear pretty, pretty youth.' When I look at you, I don't just feel a stiffening of my prick, I feel full of tenderness. So many people, male and female, associate male desire with animal lust. They think of it as hot, violent and rapidly disappearing after sexual climax. But my desire for you is NOT like that. I feel so much emotion, such tenderness, sweetness and joy. I worry when you are out of sorts, I am anxious when you are away, I am fearful when you take risks, I ache to lie beside you in bed, to warm you with my arms when you are cold, to console you when you are sad. And when I suck you or fuck you I try to be gentle, so that you get as much pleasure as I do. I feel as I am doing it that the giving and receiving of love between us is the gift of God.

"That union of our bodies gives us the same sort of joy that I am sure that God experiences when we recognize and acknowledge Him. We have both experienced that sacramental feeling when making love. The ultimate purpose of fucking is not to make babies, it is to bring two human beings together and so experience in the love between us the love that God has for His creatures, and to show us the way to Him. That is why the union of two humans has to be exclusive, because once we find God, there is no turning away from Him for another. It's strange! When we first met, as an atheist I was always telling you off for boring me with your God-talk, and now it seems that I am preaching to you!"

"Jon, my dearest love," David replied "I thank our God that He has used me to help you find Him, even if you have found Him via the tightness of my back passage rather than via my eloquence of speech! All you need now is to encounter God in the humanity of His Son and you will be totally His and we'll get you baptized. We talked before about how carnality is the way to the love of God, because the supreme Creator loved His creation so much that He became flesh and entered the created world via the same genital passage through which we all travel into life, 'inter faeces et urinam'. You can't get more carnal than that!"

I made no reply, but my face buried in his hair was moist with tears. He put his muscular arms round me and pulled my face down and kissed my lips, my cheeks and my tearful eyes. He whispered in my ear, "I need to fuck you, my love." He in turn began to rub his lips over my hair. I felt myself surrendering to a deep wave of tenderness. I was his to take as he wished. He tore off his clothes, dropped them on the sitting room floor, picked me up bodily and carried me into the bedroom, where he laid me on the bed and began to undress me. I felt myself no longer a man. I was a little boy. He pulled off my shoes and socks, undid my belt, unzipped my fly and pulled pants and underpants down to my ankles, where I kicked them off. He pulled my shirt over my head and began to kiss my face. Once more I could smell the fragrance of 'Storing pour homme' in his hair. He moved his kissing down, under my chin and down my chest till he reached my nipples. He got hold of the surrounding hair with his teeth and tugged on it gently. The slight pain started to arouse me, and as my nipples stiffened, he took each in turn into his mouth and nibbled it gently. I can't describe the wave of tenderness and desire that overwhelmed me. I put my arms round his shoulders and spread my legs wide, pulling him down on top of me so that his slimy dick rubbed against my belly.

I moved my hands down to the small of his back and pressed him against me. After a few minutes he reached for the lube beside the bed and started to apply it to my person, poking first two, then three fingers coated in K-Y into my back passage. He then lay back on top of me and started to kiss my chest. I got hold of the condom box that lay beside the bed, pulled one out, removed its foil and rolled it over David's monster tool, red, lumpy, veiny and slimy, while he lay propped up on his arms patiently waiting for me to finish. He rubbed some K-Y on the rubber and gently but firmly pushed it into my fuckhole. The sensation of that monster dick stretching my sphincter is impossible to describe, all I can say is that the feeling of having him inside me was delicious, and perfection was exceeded when from time to time he hit my prostate. We dissolved in pleasure, though not yet ready for soft repose...

Chapter 49 David

A London gig and Christmas at Rockwell's Barn

As Advent progressed, my gig in London drew nearer. But before my paid public appearance was the Bach Choir's Christmas concert in Camford: the Mozart litany, in which I was tenor soloist. The ravishingly beautiful music, not frequently performed, went very well and moved Jon in the audience to tears.

During the past year, encouraged by Marcello, I had worked hard on the tenor part in 'Messiah' and by now I knew it well enough to count it a repertory item, although on Marcello's advice I was practising adding ornaments to the basic vocal line. The performance was that of the East London Choral Society and it was held in a church hall in the Woodford area, reached by a long journey on the Central line. The weather that December was not good, cold, windy and extremely wet, and I persuaded David to come to London with me. The concert was on a Saturday, and the Society offered me overnight accommodation in a local Travelodge. I asked them to make it a double, explaining that my partner was coming, but would pay his own overnight bill.

We had to travel up to London early so that I could have a rehearsal with the choir in the afternoon. Jon was coming to the performance, so he did not attend the rehearsal, and went off to explore the East London suburbs. The rehearsal went well. The other soloists were all unknown to me, but they all knew their job and were extremely competent performers. My personal performance was vastly better than at Reading the previous year. In the evening, the packed audience applauded the whole performance rapturously. There were even a few requests for autographs of the soloists. When Jon and I got back to the hotel, we had a very enjoyable session of 69 before falling asleep in our separate beds.

My father arranged to have two weeks holiday over Christmas and the New Year. Three days before Christmas he, my mother and Jeroen arrived in Camford and picked me up and I directed them on the route to Ixton. Jon arranged to start his Christmas holiday three or four days before Christmas, and he and my mother worked incredibly hard in the kitchen for two successive days getting everything ready for the festive season. He and I took the 4x4 to Arthur's farm to pick up the turkey which he had obtained for us from one of his colleagues, and we also arranged for him to supply us with a Christmas tree. There had been a rather excessive number of fir trees among the supply of trees which had been planted in our original afforestation scheme, and it was necessary to thin these out after several years. We were not damaging the woodland by digging up a small tree that was surplus to requirements. Arthur also supplied us with a large container in which we could plant the tree for the Christmas period, after which it would be planted outside Rockwell's Barn by the door.